Last Sunday, while Michele was in Napa, I went to see Fury with Brad Pitt. It was pretty close to the classic war movie, checking all the appropriate war-movie boxes. And it was pretty good. Actually, the first three-quarters was very good and then it became a little too fanciful. It was a world that felt very familiar, not that I have ever been in combat, but it felt like alot of early 50s war movies that I have seen.

When I got out, it was pretty late so I stopped by El Grullense Grill for some pisole. I figured it would still be open because they have a bar at one end of the restaurant. I ordered my pisole and, while I was waiting for it, a fight started in the bar. I looked over and it seemed like a typical bar fight with a couple of three  or four guys sort of inexpertly pushing and shoving with alot of yelling (not that I know anything about bar fights, the last one I saw was at Evy’s Partytimer on the edge of Watts in 1963).

As the fight escalated, the adults who were eating – especially the women – started backing out the front door so that the restaurant side of  El Grullense was semi-empty by the time one of the fight participants threw a beer bottle at the bartender (incidentally, for those of you, like me, don’t know what an exploding beer bottle sounds like, it sounds a little like a gun going off).What surprised me, shocked me, actually, was that, when the fight started, all the kids in the restaurant left. Instantly! The was a yell by the back door, a push or a swing, and all the kids got up and ran out the front door.

I grew up in a world in which the kids would have been trying to see what was happening at the other end of the room. A fight after all is intrinsically interesting, in much the same way that an accident by the side of the road is interesting. But, in El Grullense, this time at least, no kid looked to see what was happening, they just all ran for the door. This is not a world I am familiar with.

Last Tuesday, Michele took me to An Evening with Caroline Casey & Climbing PoeTree – Magnetizing Metaphor into Matter at Oakland’s Impact Hub. Caroline, pictured above with Michele and one of her favorite clients, is hard to describe, she uses astrology as lens to riff about everything, from the Grail Legend to Sufism, from Voodoo to the Kabbala, from Classic Chinese Theatre to Movies. She is always entertaining and insightful. On Tuesday, she was joined by two women who are equally hard to explain, Alixa Garcia and Naima Penniman. They reminded me of a CD I had – probably in the early 90s – by a black woman, whose name escapes me, that – looking back – seems to be a combination of poetry and rap. Rather than even try to explain Climbing Poe Tree, I’ll just embed a performance from Bioneers.

What surprised me was the crowd. Both the familiar and the unfamiliar worlds of the crowd.  The crowd was overwhelmingly female. The familiar part was the women my age that I feel I know: they are intellectual and liberal, they are consumers of art and invested in things as they are. They say they want change and, even, recognize the necessity of change. Still, they aren’t – really – doing much about bringing it about except voting. Most of my generation, especially the men of my generation, but including these women, for all their good intentions, have stonewalled progress towards equality and fairness. As an aside, when I say especially the men of my generation, I include women like Dianne Feinstein who seem to be living through their masculine side even though their persona is female. End aside.

The unfamiliar world of the Tuesday night crowd, however, was the majority of it: young women couples. This Impact Hub was started, primarily, by several women of color and is dedicated to change.and this crowd seemed to be living and embracing that change. Even though it was a new world to me, it is a very welcome world.

Portola Valley celebrated its 50th Anniversary last weekend. That’s 50 years as an incorporated Town – in California, there is no legal difference between a Town and a City but Towns do seem to be smaller and often use the County Sheriff for their Police – not 50 years of being inhabited. The area had been inhabited by the Ohlones for only – probably and approximately – 600 years although there have been signs of human habitation around the Bay for about 4,000 years. What ever that exact timeline, by the time California became a State on September 9, 1850 – although we Californians didn’t find out about that for 38 days because news had to come by ship, around Cape Horn  – people were already cutting down the Redwoods for San Francisco housing. By the turn of the Century, most of the Redwoods were gone and Portola Valley became a farming area mixed with a few big estates.

As an aside, one of the major estates was owned by the inventor of San Francisco’s cable cars, Andrew Hallidie. He built an aerial tramway, now gone, that went from Portola Road up about a thousand feet to Skyline. He also built the best swimming pool I have ever seen, it is probably about five or six acres and has a small steam train that goes around it. About twenty years ago, or so, Michele and I were walking through some second-growth Redwoods, on an abandoned logging road, when we chanced upon the pool in an open area. It was full of water and clean but looked abandoned. The next Fourth Of July, on a similar walk, we decided to go by the pool only to find it all decked out for the Fourth, complete with small sailboats and lots of bunting. We felt like trespassers and started to back out when we were spotted, told to stay on the roads, and then ignored. End aside.

By the 60s, the residents voted to incorporate in order to have local control over development. The goals were to preserve the beauty of the land through low-density housing and to limit services to those necessary for local residents. They thought they would keep the government small and cheap by having lots of volunteers and Portola Valley still has that tradition and, apparently, enough money has been saved to host a free dinner for the residents of the Town.

Michele wanted to go and I tagged along. When I first moved into Portola Valley, it was a different place. That was 1981 and the whole world was a different place. It would be two more years before the Macintosh would be introduced, AOL was still called Control Video Corporation,  and Silicon Valley was an inside joke rather than one of the richest places in the world.  Portola Valley was already a low density suburb but the houses – trending towards Sunset Magazine Ranch-house  – were modest by today’s standards. I was far from being the only forty something in town but we were among the youngest citizens. Most of our neighbors were older and, as they got even older and moved out, they have been replaced by young families from Silicon Valley with kids.

I knew that intellectually, still it was a surprise to go to a public gathering and see so many young kids.

The Birthday Party was also full of very nice adults, but Portola Valley has always had nice adults. .

Referring to the San Andreas Fault – which is about a hundred feet from the hay bales  above – Michele said something along the lines of These are the people who want to live on the edge. It’s true that they are more on the edge than the people who are living in Menlo Park or Palo Alto, but it is a deceptive edge, nobody is growing their own veggies and we are 3.5 miles from the freeway. What is different is that the center of the world has change from where ever it was to Silicon Valley and this edge is now the edge of one of the most vital places on earth and one of the richest.

The new, very nice, adults are very smart, very rich, and very good looking – even their dogs are good looking – with above average children. They also are people who want their own way. The Town has a Yahoo! Group – PVForum – and an amazingly big part of it is about airplane noise from the planes landing at SFO 30 miles away, or somebody driving too fast in their BMW.

Still, this is one of the world’s sweet spots. Happy Fiftieth, Portola Valley.